Summary: What in the universe inspired Spock, Saavik and the kids to travel
*there*?

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns 'em. I don't, and I can't profit monetarily
from writing about them.

Archive: Anywhere, long as you let me know

Note: Set in the same storyline as "Mark of Hellguard," but earlier, before
the birth of Penda (Saavik's youngest child).

Second Note: Inspired by the Storm Challenge.
The Severe Thunderstorm Warning is pretty much the same one I've heard and seen
a gazillion times every spring, growing up in MN... even the "T'Storm" part.

*****

"There appears to be a storm coming in," said Saavik, gazing at the distant
desert.

A truly distant desert indeed, since she and her family were, of all places,
in Minnesota, and what Saavik was gazing at longingly was a picture of their
home town.

"I see you have been listening to the announcements," said Spock.

"There is nothing like travel," was the groaned reply, "to make one realize
the attributes of one's home." Saavik shifted the weight of her belly on the
mattress, bringing her unborn daughter into a more comfortable position. The
latter, thus pacified, diminished the protests she had been making with her
remarkably strong legs and feet, and Saavik sighed in relief.

"This is a Severe Thunderstorm Warning," announced the holoscreen yet again.
"During a Severe Thunderstorm, remain indoors and away from water. Turn off all
electrical appliances."

"Said the electrical appliance," grumbled Sidic.

"Considering that you begged and pleaded to come here on our vacation,"
T'Khidai snapped at her brother, "you do not seem nearly as content as one would
expect."

"I wanted to come to Minnesota because it was the Land of Ten Thousand
Lakes!" Sidic retorted. "I wanted to see what someplace looked like with so much
water. Nobody *told* me that we would have to spend the whole time stuck in this
tiny little cabin because ninety per cent of the water would be falling from the
sky, complete with lights and sound effects." He shuddered as another flash of
lightning and clap of thunder transformed the heavens almost simultaneously.
"And that we wouldn't even be able to watch neat old war documentaries like
'Breaking the Enigma,' because every five minutes a Severe Thunderstorm Warning
would cover up half the screen."

"Well, now you know," said T'Khidai, burrowing deep into her beanbag chair
and quilted comforter.

The announcement repeated itself twice, taking its time, while the scientists
in the documentary were reduced to a background, with a chart of data about
thunderstorms blocking everything below their waists,
the volume of their voices lowered almost under the hearing threshold as they
bent over the screen of their antique computer.

"T'Storm," said James.

"What?" said Sidic, rolling his eyes.

"T'Storm. On the chart, on the holovid. There is not enough room for them to
show the word 'Thunderstorm,' so they write 'T'Storm.' They could have written
'T-Storm,' with a hyphen, but they wrote 'T'Storm,' with an apostrophe."

"Fascinating," said Sidic, his voice curdling with sarcasm.

"Excuse me a moment," said Saavik, laboriously getting up and leaving the
room.

The Thunderstorm Warning faded, and the documentary returned, now fully
visible and audible. Sidic voiced his relief with a small grunt.

"You have your show back, at least," T'Khidai reminded him. "You should be
happy."

"The warning will be back in five minutes," said Sidic. "It always is."

They sat in silence for another few moments.

"Could we leave?" said James suddenly. "Could we go to Arizona instead?"

"That would require going outside," Spock pointed out, "driving all the way
to the transport station, paying a fee equal to what we paid to beam here, and
finding a place of lodging in Arizona that would house us on short notice."

"It would not be too difficult," Sidic opined, "to be worth it."

Saavik returned from the other room. "The facilities in this residence are
acceptable," she admitted, "although I do not see why it should be necessary to
have flowers painted on a toilet lid."

Spock raised an eyebrow that expressed as much as a grimace.

"There, look, I told you," muttered Sidic, pointing at the holovid. "It's
back." And indeed a window of text had appeared, covering the program once
again.

"You do not have to gloat," said T'Khidai. "Although it is preferable to
sulking."

James, however, leaned forward, scrutinizing the vidscreen. "This is not the
Severe Thunderstorm Warning," he exclaimed. "It does not say 'T'Storm'! It says,
'You have a message from...'"

"'Bantu,' Spock finished.

"What kind of a name is that?" Sidic grumbled.

"It is a screenname," said Spock, finding the controller. With a few clicks,
another window appeared on the screen, this one covering the entire view of the documentary.

"Hey!" protested his son, but the protest died away as a familiar face
materialized in that new window on the monitor.

"Greetings, Ms. Uhura," said Spock. "I trust you are well?"

The former communications officer's mouth twisted wryly. "It's your health
I'm concerned about," she replied, eyes twinkling. "When I heard that your
little crew had taken off to *Minnesota,* I just thought I'd better check in on
you to make sure you were there of your own free will."

Spock raised an amused brow. "I assure you that we were not coerced here by
any outside party."

"You sure?" Uhura folded her arms and looked pointedly at the three
youngsters at Spock's sides. "What about temporary insanity? Were any of you
under the influence of that, maybe, when you chose your vacation destination?"

And the look on Sidic's face gave everything away.

Uhura laughed delightedly. "I knew it! Friends, if you don't want to admit to
having made a mistake, that's fine with me, but I've got enough communication
skills to see what's right in front of me."

Then, abruptly, her voice lowered and her gaze became more earnest, though
still twinkling. "And I may not be communications officer of the Enterprise any
more, but I've still got plenty of strings to pull where Starfleet is concerned.
Now I happen to be communicating with a starship that's on a milk run in your
vicinity, a starship that's got enough transporter power to move anything from
any point on the planet's surface to any other point on it. Waiting in line at
the transport station might be a bit too much for you. But if you just say the
word, my friends up there won't consider it the slightest bother to make sure
that, twenty minutes from now, you're in... shall we say Arizona?"

Only the briefest of glances among the members of the family were necessary.
"Consider us," announced Spock, "to have said the word. We will be ready in ten
minutes."

"And Nyota," said Saavik, "*thank* you."

"Any time, dears. Have fun."

The children were already leaping from their seats, running to pack their
bags. Spock and Saavik rose and stood for a moment by the screen, almost-smiling
at each other.

"T'Storm," mused Saavik. "What do you think of that, as a name for our next
child?"

The communication had not yet closed, and the screen almost flickered with
the force of their rescuer's laughter.